


A Spoonful of Sugar. Or Seven.

by sinspiration



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Pepper's seen plenty of Tony's one night stands, but she's also seen a few of his actual attempts at relationships, and they've worked out codes for who's serious and who isn't, who has some nasty background they've been hiding or is cheating, who's obnoxious to her when Tony leaves the room, et cetera, so they can discuss it without the other person cluing in. And some general evaluations, of course, because Tony values Pepper's opinion in everything, and is pretty sure she knows what's good for him better than he does, even if he does usually resist.</p><p>Pepper has some interesting things to say about Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spoonful of Sugar. Or Seven.

The first night Bruce spent at Stark Tower, he probably wasn’t expecting, the next morning, to be met by Pepper in the kitchen during an attempt to sneak out unnoticed. He also probably wasn’t expecting the extravagant pancake breakfast. Though once Pepper made it clear that Bruce was  _invited_ to stay for the morning, he did help her finishing setting it out.  
  
Honestly, while Tony was expecting the escape attempt (and he had been planning on cutting Bruce off at the door and turning him around Pepper ruined all his fun), he wasn’t expecting the pancakes either. Pancakes were usually served when Tony  _didn’t_  bring over uninvited guests. Then again, Bruce wasn’t exactly the usual sort. Nor was he uninvited. There was that whole saving-Tony’s-life thing, and also that whole helped-to-save-the- _world_  thing, and even if Pepper hadn’t been consulted before Tony’d convinced Bruce to stay the night at his place, Tony was completely positive she’d approve of the decision.  
  
And, well, clearly she did, because pancakes. Which, going on the evolution of their silent communications, meant that she approved. Except that, specifically it meant “good choice,” (one of the reasons why he never got them when people were over) and Tony wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done.  
  
But he was wasting valuable pick-Bruce’s-brain time and pancakes were better hot, so he just quirked an eyebrow at her and asked if she’d offered Bruce milk because Pepper, come on, nothing was going to happen. And then he shoved a glass of whole milk at Bruce because code or not, the guy could use the calories.  
  
Bruce smiled at Pepper and thanked her for breakfast (which was absolutely unfair because it was on Tony’s dime he should at least get partial credit, at least seventy-three percent credit), and Pepper just smiled back and asked if he wanted some tea.  
  
“Wait, hold on,” Tony said. “Since when do I have tea?”  
  
“Since this morning,” Pepper replied evenly, already taking boxes out of the cupboards so Bruce could take his pick.  
  
“Okay,” Tony said, eyeing the multitude of boxes and that was a  _lot_  of tea, “And now, if you could please enlighten me, your simple employer,  _why_  do I have tea?”  
  
“Dr. Banner drinks it. Don’t you, Doctor?”  
  
“Ah…yes,” Bruce said, looking mildly confused and aw. Aw, that was adorable. Tony rubbed his hands together and grinned.  
  
“Well good, mystery solved. Banner, get your tea. We have a playdate.” And not just because Pepper wanted him to stick around a little longer. After all, duh, it's not like she gave him the tea in a travel mug.

\---

The next batch of coded messages were a little weirder. He and Bruce were working to see if any of the Mach VI was salvageable. Bruce was asking questions and  _understanding the answers_ , and Tony was quite content to stay with him in the lab forever.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“What is it, Jarvis?”  
  
“Ms. Potts suggests that it’s time you break for lunch.”  
  
Tony sighed at the interruption, but he could go for some lunch now that it was brought to his attention. And it was probably a good idea to make sure Bruce ate at semi-regular intervals anyway. “Yeah, okay, food, what the hell. You have a preference, big guy?”   
  
Predictably, Bruce glanced up over the rim of his glasses, shook his head, and went back to poking at wires. Tony could learn to love this man.  
  
“Send up some pizza or something, Jarvis. One-hand food.”  
  
“With all due respect sir, Ms. Potts has already made other plans.”  
  
“Uh. Okay?”  
  
A screen popped up to Tony’s left. “Your reservations are in twenty minutes. Enough time to wash up before setting out to the restaurant.”  
  
That got Tony’s attention. Lunch reservations? Okay, he got that Bruce didn’t come from money, didn’t need to be told that via Pepper’s oh-so-subtle hints. But they could order in something just as nice as restaurant fare. So that they  _didn’t have to leave the lab._  
  
Although now that he thought about it, usually a restaurant reservation as a not-so-subtle sign to leave the  _bedroom._  What was Pepper—  
  
“Something wrong?” Bruce asked. He’d taken off his glasses and was looking at Tony with mild concern. “If you’d prefer not to go out—Or are the plans for you and Pepper?” His lips quirked, barely. “I can fend for myself just fine.”  
  
Which completely cut off Tony’s whine about being forced to abandon their project for nourishment. He took a closer too at the screen and finally processed the place Pepper had chosen.  
  
“No, no, nothing’s wrong. Not a thing. And what, no, reservation’s for two, I’m the first party and you’re the second. How about Indian food? Up for Indian?”  
  
Bruce blinked, but nodded.  
  
“Great! Meet you in the lobby in ten.” He could stand to lose a few work hours if it meant giving Bruce a taste of familiarity without having to leave. Bruce  _spoke English._  Tony wasn’t about to let him run off to New Dehli or wherever.

\---

A couple hours later (okay, so lunch had run long but Bruce had been enjoying himself and Tony was cool with encouraging that even if it meant time away from science projects), back in the lab, Tony kept finding messages. Everywhere. To the point where he seriously wondered if Pepper had made him go to lunch just so she could leave them.  
  
Mostly they were fact tidbits. Stuff to help along any conversation when it started to dwindle. Half the time he had to wrack his brain for the meanings of all the stuff, just because he used them so rarely. In his recent years, Tony had kind of stopped caring that his conquests had favorite colors, or liked certain art. They never lasted more than a couple of nights anyway, and if he forgot something and wanted them to stick around longer, the green glasses meant “earrings” and the red ones meant “necklace” and that was pretty much the extent of what he’d needed to know.   
  
Bruce probably wouldn’t look half bad, with a necklace of some sort. Not diamonds obviously, but something simple, organic maybe, on a simple cord or chain…had to allow for transformation though, so that it didn’t break or get lost. But the other guy might not like something around his neck. Maybe a bracelet then? Something strong and expandable but still tasteful. He could do that…  
  
“Tony.”  
  
Tony looked up at him. “Yup?”  
  
Bruce didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow and pointed to where Tony…had been braiding wires together. Right.  
  
“Conductivity,” he said with a grin. “Possibly. Not sure yet. But it keeps them together, and anything that means less of a tangle and, thus, less of a problem down the road, is okay by me.” Bruce shook his head and went back to his own work, but he was smiling slightly so Tony counted that as a win.  
  
“So hey,” he said sometime later, mind still half on the bracelet. “Are you allergic to any metallic or silicon compounds?”  
  
Bruce looked up from where his hands where now buried up to the wrist in the coolant gel that kept the compound metals he was working with from being exposed to the air, something that tended to make them overheat and explode.  
  
“Uh,” he said, being adorable again. “What?”  
  
“Allergies,” Tony repeated impatiently. “To man-made materials. Or, natural ones too I guess? Do you have any?”  
  
“Not that I know of,” Bruce said slowly, clearly unsure about why Tony wanted to know this. “I used to be allergic to a few different things, but. Not since the other guy.”  
  
“Gotcha,” Tony said, grabbing a notepad to scribble this down and start designing. He had to scribble; couldn’t exactly use his open computer screens and give Bruce opportunity to see what he was doing. The sticky note pad was bright orange.  
  
“So you’re a dog person. Huh.” he muttered, before he could stop himself.  
  
He realized what he’d said a second later, and refused to look up, even though Bruce was staring questioning holes into his head.

\---

That evening, after a really nice dinner ( _inside_  the Tower, thank you very much), he’d talked Bruce into watching a documentary of something on the couch, and it was there that Pepper found them.   
  
She gave Bruce a mug of tea before handing Tony his usual cup of coffee. Bruce smiled and thanked her, and Tony was distracted enough by this that when he took a sip of his coffee, he almost spit it out.  
  
Sugar? He  _never_  took sugar in his coffee. That was the reason Pepper’d  _made_  it the signal for “invite them back.” As a jab at the fact that his choices almost always sucked.  
  
Wait. Waitwaitwait. Hold on. He took another tentative sip, barely squashing the urge to pull a face. That was sugar all right. At it wasn’t just a spoonful, either. That was like, seven spoonfuls of sugar. Tasted liked she’d dumped in the whole damn pot.  
  
He glanced at Pepper. She smiled at the both of them, wished them a good night, and walked away.  
  
Huh. Well. Approval. For…something he hadn’t really been thinking about. Except, he realized now, the hyper-sweet coffee taste on his tongue, that he  _had_  been thinking about it. Kind of a lot. Just in ways that weren’t his norm, here. More in ways that were a bit more permanent.  
  
He took another sip, to give himself time to think and not answer the question that was so clear on Bruce’s face that he might as well have just spoken aloud. Because they got each other and one of the benefits of two brilliant people getting each other is the inevitable half-telepathy that made working on projects all that much easier.   
  
And lunch conversations easier. And silly jokes easier. And making fun of documentaries together easier.  
  
And drinking coffee that was really, really too sweet easier.  
  
“Not my usual coffee,” Tony said, by way of explanation, which Bruce accepted readily enough. “It’s growing on me though. So, you’re playing with me tomorrow too, right? Because I’m thinking that we need to figure out a way for the coolant gel to retain its nature while making it a little more portable, possibly less glutinous, there’s a—” as he and Bruce continued the conversation, Tony kept taking sips of his coffee, sugared as it was, until he’d finished the cup. The distraction of Bruce being there was a big help.  
  
Which was just as well, since Tony was probably going to see a lot of sugared coffee in his future.  
  
Maybe he could talk Pepper into altering this particular code.


End file.
